


cut your loss at the tideline

by problematic_pleasures



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Episode Tag s7e16, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-14 23:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10546356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/problematic_pleasures/pseuds/problematic_pleasures
Summary: call the cops, call your lifeline; there's no way you were ever in your right mindAftermath of the season finale.





	

**Author's Note:**

> as always, the new episode inspired me. just a bit of a 'what if' dancing around the idea of negan and carl were already involved when the ep happened.
> 
> enjoy!

It’s not easy to sneak out a few nights later, but he manages it. Barely.

There’s no way for him to make it there and back again, so he leaves a note; he doesn’t promise to come home and he doesn’t say he’s gone for good, either. He writes _‘sorry,’_ and signs his name. After a moment, he adds a hasty _‘I love you’_ at the bottom. He stares at the note so long he nearly talks himself out of going—in the end he turns on his heel, sharp, and leaves in a hurry.

He takes one of the bikes abandoned by the Scavengers. He’s barely taken off before phantom pain ignites in his thighs.

It’s going to be a long night.

 

 

 

He gets there on shaking legs. The exhaustion had gotten to be too much about a mile before reaching the Savior’s camp, so he’d resorted to walking. It was the only way to make moving remotely bearable. He gets there on shaking legs, and the saviors on guard let him through without upset. He pushes the bike aside and puts more force in his step.

Eventually, somehow in the blink of an eye and yet still eons later, he makes it to Negan’s door. It’s cracked open, hardly an inch.

Carl stares at the sliver of light bleeding out into the hall and sucks in a shaky breath. He closes his eye and drinks in the anger flooding through his veins, the fear and leftover adrenaline. He lets it consume him and propel him forward to shove Negan’s bedroom door open. He puts so much power behind the motion that the door rattles on its hinges, and he draws Negan’s attention in an instant.

“Well,” he drawls with a tired grin, “look what the—?”

“Shut up.” Carl stalks forward. He doesn’t drag his feet despite the ache in his bones—he stalks forward and he slaps Negan before he can think better of it.

Negan grabs his wrist on the rebound. “What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

Carl laughs, laughs so hard he manages to shake himself out of Negan’s grip. He laughs so hard it takes on a tinge of hysteria. “What do _I_ think _I’m_ doing?” He asks incredulously. “What the fuck was that!” He points toward the window, toward Alexandria, toward a few days prior when Negan was about to use Carl’s skull for batting practice.

“C’mon, Carl,” Negan’s words have a teasing lilt but the fury in his eyes tells a different story. “You know I wouldn’t have _actually_ killed you. Just maybe a little scrape, give ya a little haircut. That’s all.” He stands as he speaks and his fingers twitch at his sides—like they miss Lucille, like they need Lucille.

“That’s _all_?” Carl’s indignation comes out in a growl. He dives at Negan and plants his hands on the man’s broad chest, and shoves. Negan barely stumbles but he doesn’t reach for Carl again, not immediately. “What the _fuck_.” Carl’s chest heaves with the force of his anger and panic. “You fucking _prick_.”

Carl lets out an animalistic keen and turns away. He runs his hands through his hair, knocks the sheriff hat off in the process, and starts to pace. He winds around the couch, the table, over by the bed and the closet door. He walks the path again and again and again until a crushing grip on his shoulder halts him.

“Carl.”

Carl doesn’t look up. He lets Negan pull him close and lets Negan stare him down, but he doesn’t meet the gaze. Not out of fear, but defiance. He can see the way it gets under his lover’s skin, how Negan barely reigns in the urge to take Carl by the chin, force them to look at one another. Instead of that, Negan’s free hand finds Carl’s waist and thumbs at his hip almost gently.

“Carl,” he says again. One might think the tone is pleading, but Carl knows better.

“Don’t.” He lets his arms hang limp at his sides. “You—I know that we agreed to…” Carl trails off as his throat closes up. It’s emotion, too much, all piling up in his chest and spilling into his lungs, his throat. “But, really? You really couldn’t think of _any_ better threat?”

“Did you really think I was gonna kill you, sunshine?”

Just like that, Carl’s rage returns and leaves no room for the rest of the emotions. He shoves at Negan again, but doesn’t even make contact before Negan’s catching them, clutching Carl’s slender fingers between his palms. Negan stares down at their messily locked hands. His brow is drawn together and his lips are pulled downward. He almost looks sad, truly unhappy, and Carl is torn between laughing and soothing him.

“You really thought I’d do that?” Negan asks again. There’s less bite, less mockery in his voice than before.

“I didn’t know what you were going to do. Everything went to shit. All I knew is that you were looking a little too happy about taking Lucille on a joyride.” Carl spits out the words but Negan’s warmth, seeping into him, lull him to settling. His fury dims and his head clears. He’s still angry, doesn’t know if that will ever go away, but it’s lessened slightly. “I—yes, okay? I thought you were gonna do it Because it would’ve been the smart thing to do, in your shoes.”

“Maybe if it was some other kid, it mighta been.”

Carl looks up; he’s drawn by the genuine offense lacing Negan’s words.

“Any other kid, anyone else kneeling beside your dear ol’ dad, and I wouldn’t have hesitated. Michonne? Daryl? _Anyone_ else, and that little bullshit speech I gave? That little game? Wouldn’t have happened. Would’ve taken their head off without hesitation.”

The words soothe him and Carl finds himself leaning into Negan’s orbit, like he always does.

“I stalled because I had to make it look _good_. I had to get your dad’s blood boilin’ and I had to save face. I _never_ would’ve actually hit you, fuckin’ dumbass.” Negan lets one of Carl’s hands go. He reaches out instead to cup Carl’s cheek.

“You _should’ve_ just taken me and left.”

“You’re still here, ain’t ya?”

Carl can’t argue with that. He deflates with an exhale, and replies. “Yeah, I am.”

Negan’s grin is feral, all teeth, but there’s simmering fondness there too. There’s promise and delight and violence between those lips and Carl doesn’t even want to resist.

Wordlessly, Negan guides Carl to the bed; they strip down as they go until they’re both nude. Together they slide under the covers and even though there’s passion lingering over the room like a raincloud, Negan barely touches Carl. His fingertips skirt bruised skin, and even the way their legs tangle feels hesitant. The delicate scrape of Negan’s leg hair nearly tickles, and Carl has to stifle a laugh.

“When’s your daddy expecting you back?”

Carl shrugs. “Didn’t say I was coming back.”

Surprise flickers across Negan’s face, and Carl thinks back to Sasha bursting from the coffin, Shiva barreling over unexpectedly. “Really now?” Negan purrs. In an instant his hands are more eager, travel more ground across Carl’s body than they have for weeks. “Does that mean you’re all mine?” The _for good_ is implied but ultimately unspoken.

Rather than reply, rather than admit the words get caught in his throat ( _because you can’t decide_ , a voice in his head sing-songs, _because you don’t know what you want_ ) rather than that—

Carl kisses Negan. He kisses familiar, smoky, chapped lips and swallows Negan’s cocky laughter. It’s easier than answering aloud. It’s easier than admitting he’s betraying his family for Negan, for _this_. It’s easier than telling Negan he’s been right all along. It’s easier, he thinks as he lets Negan bring his body to life, so much easier.


End file.
